Compelled
by FelOllie
Summary: Established Sterek: A member of the Fae tries to claim Stiles. While trying to stop her, Derek is hit by a compulsion spell. Stiles operates in a moral gray area. DUB-CON WARNING!
1. Cast In Pink

**Prompt: Sterek!Derek gets hit by an obedience spell and stiles takes full advantage of it.**

****Dub-con is in the second chapter, which will be posted tomorrow****

* * *

Stiles was, as per usual, the last to trudge out of the trees and into the clearing that was situated on the far southern side of the preserve. It wasn't Hale land but it was still part of the Hale-McCall territory. Despite the difficult trek it took to reach, the clearing was favored by Derek and Scott. Tactically speaking it presented the pack with an open arena in which to train, it was far enough away from civilization that no one would accidentally stumble upon them or hear the ruckus and come to investigate, and it was nestled low enough in a valley that it allowed the wolves to practice training exercises in positions that gave them both an advantage and a disadvantage.

Unfortunately, the clearing's kickass positioning, while perfect for training, normally left Stiles to pick his way through the dense forest all on his own, trying not to land face first in the dirt when he inevitably slipped on a patch of moss or wet leaves.

Derek and Scott both made sure to offer him a lift but Stiles refused each and every time. He had his reasons, no matter how much Derek huffed and called him stubborn. Even if his reasons were mostly that he was a man, damn it, and didn't need his boyfriend or his brother carrying him through the woods like a damsel in distress. They were still reasons.

By the time Stiles managed to burst through the treeline and kick free of the underbrush the rest of the pack was already waiting.

"Batman!" Erica grinned, abandoning Isaac and their sparring match to saunter across the clearing to greet him.

Stiles snorted as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "If only. I'm sure one of Batman's cool as fuck gadgets would make this hike about a thousand times easier."

"Poor baby." Erica mocked, curling an arm around his waist and letting him toss an arm around her shoulders.

Stiles let her lead him toward the others. Scott was in the midst of pinning Jackson to the ground while Lydia and Allison cheered them on in between taking shots at the targets they'd set up on the far side of the clearing. Derek and Boyd were practicing evasion techniques while Peter watched, gleefully offering critiques and judgments. Isaac, after picking himself up off the ground where Erica had left him, came to join Stiles and Erica as they crossed the open field.

"Maybe we should look into buying you an ATV or something." Isaac suggested as he picked a few leaves out of Stiles' hair.

"He tried that already." Derek informed them, appearing out of nowhere and planting a hard kiss on Stiles' lips before he could respond. "Flipped it less than a mile away from the house."

Stiles rolled his eyes and kicked a smiling Derek in the shin. "Have I told you lately that I hate you?"

Derek, jogging backwards to avoid more blows, only smiled wider. "Love you, too."

* * *

Stiles was exhausted. Every muscle in his body ached, screaming at him as he dragged himself along beside Derek, limping a little when his hip protested a step. He winced when he laid his hand over the slowly purpling skin stretched across his pelvic bone.

"I can take it." Derek offered, gesturing to the bruise.

Stiles shook his head. "I earned this. That tackle was fucking epic. How many humans can say they took down a 6 ' 3" werewolf all by themselves? This bruise is my badge of honor and I shall suffer the pain with dignity."

"Right." Derek chuffed a laugh, catching Stiles by the arm before he could slip on a toadstool and land ass first. "What was that you were saying about being a stubborn jackass?"

"That you really should stop?" Stiles quipped with a grin.

Derek opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by the warning howl that echoed back from a couple miles ahead.

"Scott." Stiles would recognize that howl anywhere.

Derek wavered in place, unsure if he should run to Scott's assistance or stay to protect Stiles. "He has Isaac with him." Derek said, as though trying to convince himself that the other Alpha had no need of his presence.

Stiles was already shaking his head. "He also has Allison and Lydia."

Meeting Stiles' eye for a beat, Derek weighed his options.

"Go!" Stiles urged. "I'll be right behind you."

Derek only hesitated for a second before he took off at a run, Stiles struggling to do the same behind him. Ignoring the protesting twinge in his hip Stiles ran as fast as his legs could carry him, ears trained on the sounds of Derek crashing through the forest ahead of him since he could no longer see him.

A chill snaked down Stiles' spine when another howl went up, this time from Jackson. Pushing himself harder, Stiles ducked under a low hanging branch only to come out on the other side at the top of an incline he couldn't stop himself from tumbling down.

He came to an abrupt stop at the bottom of the hill, his hip flaring with fresh pain. "Shit." he spat, staggering to his feet and wiping his scraped and dirt encrusted hands on the legs of his track pants.

"Are such vulgarities really necessary?"

Startled, Stiles' head shot up. His searching gaze landed on a feminine form standing in the shadow of a massive oak tree a few feet away.

"I have a colorful vocabulary." Stiles informed the newcomer through panting breaths.

A high, tinkling laugh rent the air, making Stiles cringe. "I suppose that is one way of looking at it." the woman agreed as she stepped forward from the shadows.

Stiles couldn't stop the gasp from leaving his lips.

The woman, if such a word applied to someone who was so clearly not human, was breathtakingly beautiful. Her long blonde hair hung around her bare shoulders in an unnaturally pale curtain and set off the sparkling heliotrope irises framed in almond and set in an angelic face. Full pink lips parted in a smile over pearly white but slightly too sharp teeth.

"Where is your wolf, Spark?" she asked with a tilt of her head that had her hair shifting to one side and giving Stiles a peek at pointed ears.

_Fucking Fae_, Stiles thought.

"I think you probably know the answer to that better than I do at this particular moment." Stiles hazarded, wondering if he could get a scream out before the faerie could rip out his throat.

The tinkling laugh was back, once more causing Stiles to flinch. "He will come to no harm." the faerie said in what Stiles thought was probably supposed to be assurance. "Ronan would not act without provocation."

Stiles snorted abrasively. "Have you even met my pack?" he questioned, shuffling back a few unobtrusive steps.

The faerie's purple eyes narrowed, flashing with a warning Stiles refused to heed. "Sharp tongues can be quite dangerous, Spark. You would do well to mind yours."

A painful stab of bright light flared behind Stiles' eyes, temporarily blinding him. As the pain spread through his head Stiles thought he heard a cut off howl vibrate the air but couldn't be sure. His stomach swooped low and he prayed whatever remained of his pack within the forest could handle a single faerie on their own.

He bit back the exclamation that wanted to tear from his lips, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. "I'll try to remember that." he snarked instead.

The faerie took a few steps closer, one hand extended, palm out, in his direction. "You've no idea the power you possess." she sighed, almost as though the idea pained her. "A spark of your caliber... You should not be wasting such power playing pet to a pack of mongrels."

"I'm not a pet." Stiles snapped, taking another step backwards. "And those 'mongrels' are my family."

"Family?" The faerie shook her head sadly. "Would they keep you if they knew?" she asked, the skin of her palm glowing a soft gold as it neared him.

"Knew what?" Stiles queried, eyes widening and breath leaving his lungs in a whoosh as his back collided with the trunk of a tree. "They already know that I'm a spark. So, I'm sorry to burst your bubble-"

"Quiet!" the faerie commanded, eyes flashing another warning. Unlike the first time, Stiles obeyed immediately, snapping his mouth shut with a click. "Your pack of dogs may know that you hold a spark, but the know nothing of your heritage." she murmured almost gently as she pressed her glowing palm over his heart.

Warmth flooded through Stiles' chest, filling his lungs and spreading out through his limbs. Distantly, he thought he heard clawed paws pounding the ground but he couldn't focus enough to care one way or the other.

"If they knew where your magic comes from, from whom your blood was born, would they allow you within their ranks? Or would they rend your flesh from your bones and leave you to the earth?"

Stiles' heart stalled before picking back up and beating a rapid tango against his ribs.

"Have you not wondered why the flame of magic sings in your veins, Spark?" The faerie asked, her fingers digging harshly into the muscle of his chest. "Why a child born to human parents should wield power no human could contain."

"I never really thought about it." Stiles gasped out as the woman's fingertips sank through his skin. It didn't hurt, exactly. It wasn't as though her fingers tore through his skin, ripping their way in. More accurately they simply slid through like a knife through warm butter.

"I can taste her in your blood. You belong to the Fae, Spark." she all but cooed, her voice low and smooth. "You belong to me."

"As... Flattered as I am, that's not going to happen." Stiles pressed his mouth into a flat line to convey his conviction. "I belong with my pack, with Derek. It doesn't matter where my spark came from. It's mine and I'm theirs. End of story."

"You heard him."

Stiles almost passed out he was so relieved to hear Derek's voice ring out from behind the faerie. "Oh, thank you baby Jesus." he panted, sagging against the tree at his back when the faerie withdrew her fingers from his chest, leaving behind perfectly unmarred skin.

She turned to face Derek, a snarl twisting her lips. She raised her hand again, palm out and glowing a deep shade of blue. "I would not suggest you try to stop me, Wolf."

"Funny." Derek smirked. "Your friend said the same thing." he said, then threw a dismembered head onto the ground between them.

The faerie shrieked at the sight and threw the light in her palm in Derek's direction. He ducked it just in time for it to sear a hole through the trunk of a tree a few yards behind him.

"I will have your life for his!" she screamed, a new light building in both hands, a throbbing and angry shade of red.

"Try me." Derek growled and then charged.

Stiles watched in slightly detached trepidation as Derek collided with the faerie and they both hit the ground. He wanted to help, to put himself between them or find a way to put the faerie down, but his limbs would accommodate him. He could do nothing but watch as the faerie tossed Derek clear across the forest. He hit a tree with a resounding crack and then slumped to the ground with a whimper.

The faerie turned her attention back to Stiles but before she could take another step Scott barreled out of the trees and tackled her, teeth snapping angrily at her throat. Erica was a step behind him, heading straight for Stiles as Isaac and Boyd emerged behind her and went for Derek.

"Stiles?" Erica questioned, cupping his face in her hands.

He tried to meet her gaze, to let her know he was mostly okay, but his vision kept skipping, eyes sliding in and out of focus. "Derek." he mumbled, speech slurred.

"Isaac's got him." Erica told him, glancing over her shoulder when a sharp yip reached them.

The faerie had managed to put both Scott and Boyd on their asses, but Derek was climbing to his feet, his eyes glowing Alpha Red as he shifted to his beta form. Isaac followed Derek's lead and fell in behind him.

"Wait!" It was supposed to come out as a warning shout but it left Stiles' lips as little more than a breathy plea.

Derek turned his head in Stiles' direction at the same moment the faerie threw a light pink ball of light at him and sharply commanded him to, "Stay!"

The light hit Derek in the chest, knocking him back a step, but he obeyed immediately, feet planting firmly in place.

The next moments were a blur as Stiles found the strength to stagger forward, Erica holding him up, and Scott pounced on the faerie, fangs tearing through the vulnerable flesh of her neck. A warbled and gurgling scream ripped through the air before it was extinguished in a wet burble. Scott let the body fall to the ground, the head rolling away in a tangle of blood stained hair.

"Derek!" Stiles called, stumbling closer and already reaching for him.

The Alpha blinked once and then turned toward the sound of Stiles' voice. "I'm fine." he assured, looking down at his hands as though questioning his own assertion.

"What the fuck was that light?" Isaac asked, eyeing Derek warily.

"That was her magic." Stiles explained as he and Erica came to a stop in front of Derek and Scott and Boyd came to join them. "She hit him with some kind of spell thingy or whatever."

"Do you feel any different?" Scott asked cautiously.

"No." Derek shook his head, frowning at the pack around him.

"Maybe it didn't work?" Scott offered though he sounded skeptical.

"Did you see the way he stopped on a dime when she told him to stay?" Boyd pointed out. "There's no way it didn't do _something_."

"Alright. We're gonna have to go to Deaton's." Stiles sighed, extracting himself from around Erica's shoulders and reaching a hand out to touch Derek's neck. He didn't jolt when the hum of magic buzzed along his skin but it was a near thing. "I'd ask if you're okay with that but you have literally zero choice."

Derek snorted. "If it stops you from freaking out for the next week, I'm fine with it."

"Alright, I'll call Jackson and let him know what's up." Scott nodded as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans. "He and Peter took the girls back to the house." he informed Stiles at his questioning look.

"Oh, right. Okay."

The group started off in the direction of the Hale house, Scott and Erica helping Stiles hobble across the uneven ground. He stopped suddenly, turning back to see Derek still standing in the exact same spot, staring down at his feet as if he couldn't figure out how to work them.

"Derek?" Stiles asked. Derek's head lifted quickly, his brow furrowed and questioning. "Come on." Stiles waved a hand for Derek to follow them and the Alpha didn't hesitate to do as he was bid.

* * *

"I'm sorry." Stiles held a hand up to stop Deaton mid-sentence. "Could you just repeat that for me one more time?"

"It's a compulsion spell." Deaton dutifully repeated.

"Meaning what, exactly?" Stiles pressed, leaning heavily against the metal table beside where Derek had perched at Stiles' behest.

"Meaning that Derek would feel compelled to do whatever the caster told him to do." Deaton explained. "My guess, in this instance, is that she wanted to claim you and needed Derek's permission to do so."

"Claim him?" Derek growled the question.

Deaton nodded seriously. "The Fae are not known for living amongst humans. But, every now and then, a faerie might choose to... Fraternize with a human. Any child born of that..."

"Fraternization?" Stiles sniped.

"Would, in the eyes of the Fae, belong to them. As little respect as the Fae have for werewolves, they can't usurp someone who has already been claimed. They need the Alpha's permission to take them. I would assume that she hoped to compel you into granting her that." Deaton told Derek.

"Are you trying to tell us that Stilinski has faerie blood?" Jackson scoffed from his position beside Scott.

The rest of the pack was back at Derek's loft waiting for word of their Alpha's condition. Scott had insisted he and Jackson accompany Stiles and Derek to Deaton's, just in case there were more Fae lurking in the woods.

"He does indeed." Deaton confirmed.

"My spark comes from faerie magic?" Stiles balked. "Who in the hell..." he trailed off as he remembered the faeries words when her hand had been buried in his chest, answering his own question before he'd even asked it. "My mother."

"If I had to hazard a guess I would be willing to wager Claudia was at least half-Fae." Deaton mused. Stiles swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and leaned into the arm Derek pressed against his side. "She may not have even known, herself." Deaton continued.

"Aren't the Fae immortal?" Derek asked the question Stiles couldn't force himself to ask.

Deaton's eyes softened, his expression sympathetic. "They are. However, there are a few substances that are deadly to faeries in large quantities. If Claudia were exposed to them unknowingly..."

"She wouldn't know to avoid them." Scott finished.

"Then why hasn't Stiles keeled over yet?" Jackson queried, tactful as ever. At the dark looks thrown in his direction he added, "What? It's a valid question!"

"He's right, though his delivery is lacking." Deaton made a pained face before saying, "As far as I can figure, Stiles is less than half-Fae. His diluted blood would offer him protection from things like iron, salt, and certain plants, but would also make him inherently magical."

"So..." Scott bit his bottom lip in hesitation, "Does that mean that Stiles... He'll live a normal human lifespan?"

"Not necessarily." Deaton considered the question. "He could live longer, though not nearly as long as a full-blooded Fae would."

"So not forever then." Stiles choked out the comment in the hopes that it would make him feel a little more like himself and a little less like an invader in his own body. It didn't.

Everyone in the room watched Stiles process for a long moment before Deaton spoke again. "As for Derek-"

"What about him?" Stiles asked sharply, thankful to have a distraction from his own thoughts but angry that it should be at Derek's expense.

"The enchantment should wear off in a few days."

"Days?!" Stiles and Derek both exclaimed.

"Until then," Deaton rolled his eyes, "just be careful what you say around him."

Stiles couldn't help but notice the Vet's eyes were fixed firmly and solely on him. "Wait, why just me?"

"The magic will only respond to another Fae." Deaton explained simply.

"Seriously?" Scott frowned.

Derek narrowed his eyes at the other Alpha. Scott looked appropriately cowed.

"Derek?" Deaton asked. "If you have no objections I'd like to test it, just to be sure."

After a long moment of internal debate Derek nodded his acquiescence.

"Scott, order Derek to do something but do not use the Alpha command." Deaton instructed.

Scott pushed away from the counter and stopped right in front of Derek, his arms crossed over his chest. "Derek." Derek raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Punch me in the face."

Jackson laughed, Stiles sighed in irritation, Deaton pinched the bridge of his nose, and Scott braced for the hit, but Derek didn't move.

"Huh." Stiles frowned contemplatively.

"Now Stiles." Deaton urged.

"Oh, right." Stiles looked up to meet Derek's eyes and said seriously, "Derek, bark."

If looks could kill Stiles would be nothing but a corpse, but Derek did as he was told.

Stiles stared at Derek for a beat, his lips parted in shock. "Well fuck."


	2. Broken In White

** Author's Note: Dub-con warning comes into effect here, as does a warning for Dom/sub dynamics. If you need further explanations, please see my note at the end.**

* * *

Once the pack got a chance to look Derek over themselves, touching him more than strictly necessary in order to cover the scent of Fae and magic that clung to his skin, they all sprawled out around his living room.

Doing some major pack bonding after any kind of serious confrontation was a rule Stiles had instated years before. It was a good way for the pack to regroup, to swap a battle mindset for a calmer, lighter one. Not to mention the fact that all the wolves, and in some instances the humans, seemed to heal faster when the pack stayed in close proximity.

When Stiles emerged from upstairs, freshly showered and hip slathered in a healing balm, the rest of the pack was already scattered around the loft. Scott and Lydia were curled up against each other on a mattress they'd dragged out of the guest room. Lydia's head was pillowed on Scott's chest while his fingers trailed through her hair. Jackson, Erica, and Allison were sitting at the table playing Rummy, Allison's feet in Erica's lap beneath the table.

All of them looked up when Stiles eased himself down the stairs, only wincing once when his hip twinged as his feet hit the floor.

"How do you feel?" Lydia asked, not bothering to lift her head even as her eyes lifted to him.

The wooziness from whatever mojo the faerie woman worked with her hand in his chest had mostly worn off but Stiles was left feeling drained. It took more energy than he'd be willing to admit aloud just to shower and drag himself downstairs. From the concerned looks on his friend's faces that wasn't at all what they wanted to hear.

Stiles shrugged one shoulder and scratched at the edge of his jaw before he answered, "I'm... Dealing, I guess? Someone tells you that you're not quite as human as you thought you were and it kind of throws you for a loop, you know?"

Lydia laughed softly. "Tell me about it."

"You're still Stiles." Allison called from the table as she laid down three aces. "Fae or not."

Stiles dropped a kiss to the top of her head on his way to the kitchen.

Boyd and Isaac were talking softly, seated at the island when Stiles walked in. Derek was standing in front of the stove, arms crossed over his chest and a far away look in his eyes. Stiles swiped a grape off the plate in front of Isaac as he crossed the room, only stopping when he had his face tucked into the side of Derek's neck and Derek's arms banded around him. Magic still hummed along Derek's skin, but the gentle pulse was soothing in a way. It felt familiar to something buried deep inside Stiles' chest.

"Pizza will be here in a few minutes." Derek informed him softly, the words vibrating his throat against Stiles' lips.

"Not hungry." Stiles grumbled, burrowing more firmly against Derek's chest.

"You're going to eat anyway." Derek lifted a hand to the back of Stiles' neck, giving it a tight squeeze. "You need the energy."

Stiles sighed heavily, fighting to keep his eyes open now that he was surrounded by the comforting heat of Derek's body. "Fine, whatever. Just... Stand still and hold me up for a minute."

Derek's chuckle rumbled in his chest, his arms tightening around Stiles before his body stilled. "So much for being careful."

Like he'd been slapped Stiles jerked away, his eyes wide and apologetic. "Shit, sorry! I didn't mean that to come out as a command, I swea-"

"It's fine, Stiles. Relax." Derek pulled him back into his arms and pressed a lingering kiss to his mouth.

"I'll be more careful." Stiles promised, pushing his forehead against Derek's.

"I trust you." Derek said, as though that were all that really mattered.

"You two are the worst." Isaac complained, throwing a grape that bounced off the back of Stiles' head and rolled across the kitchen floor.

Boyd snorted. "Right. _They're _the worst." he said pointedly, one brow quirked.

Isaac smiled wide and unabashed. "I have no idea what you're implying."

"Remember that the next time you go all heart-eyed and waggy-tailed when Scott or Allison so much as breathe." Stiles told him, turning in Derek's arms so that he could lean back against his chest.

"Hey, breathing is hard!" Scott called jokingly from the living room.

Stiles opened his mouth to make some innuendo or another only to have Derek clap a hand over his mouth to stop it.

"Pizza guy is here." he announced. "Go find us a spot and I'll bring you a slice."

Stiles rolled his eyes, but disentangled himself and shuffled back to the living room mumbling, "I'm not an invalid." under his breath as he went.

"Shut up and sit down." Jackson pointed to the couch as he tossed a pile of pillows on the floor in front of it.

Too exhausted to bother arguing, Stiles sank into the sofa like a rock through water. Heaving a heavy sigh he flopped around a bit to get comfortable, ending up with his legs flung over the arm of the sofa and his head on the cushions.

He must have fallen asleep because before he knew it Derek was sliding in beneath him, laying Stiles' head in his lap and plopping a paper plate with two slices of pizza on it onto his belly. "Eat." Derek gruffed.

Reluctantly and with more trouble than usual, Stiles pushed himself upright and took a bite of his pizza. Satisfied, Derek turned his attention to his own dinner and the Bruce Willis movie just beginning to play.

Stiles managed to finish most of a slice before his stomach rolled and he tossed his plate onto the end table. Derek hefted a brow but didn't comment and Stiles took it as acceptance. His eyelids kept fluttering shut so he gave into the urge to press in along Derek's side and let them fall closed.

Derek brushed a kiss to the top of his head but Stiles was already fast asleep.

* * *

Stiles woke up in his and Derek's bed, stripped down to just his briefs and all by himself. The loft was silent so he figured that Derek must have gone for a run or something. Sunlight crept in through closed curtains, telling Stiles he'd slept through the night. The sheets beside him were still warm and smelled like Derek, so he hadn't been gone that long.

Stretching out like a starfish, Stiles took stock of his body. His hip felt tons better, only the barest ache making itself known when he rolled his body. He still felt wiped out but it was more normal now, less magically drained and more like he just hadn't slept well.

Looking at his phone on the nightstand, Stiles found that it was just after nine o'clock. Summoning the will to climb out of bed he dragged on a pair of Derek's sweats and headed for the bathroom.

By the time Derek came back, all glistening skin and healthy glow, Stiles was putting eggs and sausage onto plates and laying them out on the island.

"Give me three minutes." Derek called as he ran upstairs.

Stiles sat down to his plate, munching on a piece of toast while he waited. Derek reappeared, hair wet and in fresh clothes, just as Stiles caved and popped a bite of sausage into his mouth.

"I waited as long as I could but I'm fucking starving." Stiles grinned as Derek sat beside him.

"That's because you didn't finish your pizza last night." Derek informed him. "You were out before anything even exploded."

"I'm sure Bruce had it all under control." Stiles mumbled around a mouthful of eggs.

Derek huffed a laugh.

"So, how about you?" Stiles asked, brows raised in question.

"What about me?" Derek hedged, digging into his breakfast.

Stiles gave him a bored look. "Are you still enchanted or spelled or whatever?"

"I wouldn't know. I didn't run into any faeries on my run." Derek snarked.

Stiles hesitated, chewing his lips in debate, but ultimately decided that they needed to know, one way or the other.

"Take your shirt off." he commanded.

Derek blew out an irritated breath but did as he was told. "Happy?" he glowered, throwing the shirt down on the counter.

"Should have told you to lose the pants." Stiles grumped under his breath, pushing eggs around his plate.

* * *

Two days later and Derek was still obeying commands given by Stiles. Deaton had nothing new for them, simply encouraging them to, "Wait it out.".

Derek was getting pissier the longer he stayed spelled. Stiles tried to be careful, catching himself and turning commands into questions as often as he could, but he wasn't perfect.

After he told Derek to go to Hell only to find him four hours later in the middle of the burnt out Hale house, unable to leave until Stiles told him to, Stiles not only felt like the biggest asshole on Earth, but he was nearing the end of his rope.

Watching what he said wasn't a concept Stiles was all that familiar with. Normally he just blurted whatever popped into his head, consequences be damned. Except now, the consequences weren't his, they were Derek's. One wrongly phrased sentence and Stiles could fuck everything up.

It weighed on him like a boulder on his chest, always there and never getting any lighter. It was easy for Deaton to say "give it time" when he wasn't the one who could control Derek against his will. Stiles was so frustrated he'd taken to staying away from Derek as much as possible, a fact that only served to make Derek surlier and Stiles feel like he'd been hit by a steamroller.

The emotional strain reached its peak late on the third day.

Stiles was up and out of the loft before Derek even opened his eyes, headed for Scott's. Isaac was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee when Stiles let himself in. He didn't say a word, just motioned for him to help himself to a cup. Allison and Scott also refrained from scolding Stiles for running away when they came down a few minutes later.

Stiles spent the entire day with them. He ignored his phone when it rang, not even looking at the caller ID. Scott gave him the mean side-eye but he kept his mouth shut, a fact that Stiles couldn't appreciate more.

It took Derek calling Allison's phone and her refusing to let Stiles get out of taking the call for him to talk to Derek.

Really, all it took were two four letter words for Stiles to get his head out of his ass and do what Derek wanted. Just the defeated sound of Derek saying, "Come home." was enough.

So, he went home.

* * *

When he let himself into the loft Derek was laid out on the couch, a book laying closed on his chest. Stiles went right to him, throwing the book onto the coffee table and laying down in its place. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, hugging him close, enveloping him in body heat and the low buzz of magic Stiles was slowly growing accustomed to.

"You didn't have to leave." Derek said softly.

Stiles tucked his head up under Derek's chin and shoved his arms between him and the couch. "I know." he allowed. "I just kind of felt like I had to. I'm so used to telling you what to do, I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing again."

"Stiles." Derek sighed, rubbing his chin in Stiles' hair. "Even if you made me do something, something you didn't mean to make me do, we'd get through it. I'd get over it because I know that you would never intentionally do anything to hurt me. I trust you, remember?"

Stiles nodded, not trusting his voice to come out without cracking.

"Hey." Derek whispered, tapping a finger to Stiles' back until he lifted his head to meet Derek's gaze. "We just have to hold on a little longer, okay? Deaton said these things almost never last more than a week. I know patience isn't one of your virtues but try to pretend."

Stiles pinched him on the back. "You would know virtue, wouldn't you? You stole all of mine."

"It's not stealing if you beg me to take it." Derek shrugged carelessly but his mouth tilted up on one side.

"I did not beg!" Stiles argued indignantly, shoving himself upright so that he was straddling Derek's hips.

Laughter bright in his eyes, Derek hefted a brow up at Stiles. "Are you sure about that? I seem to recall one night in particular where the words, 'Derek, please.' and 'Derek, just fucking touch me already.' seemed to be the only words you knew."

"Oh my God, I hate you." Stiles groaned while Derek chuckled under him. "You are the absolute worst. A menace to society, I tell you."

Derek levered himself up to wrap his arms around Stiles' waist, planting a warm kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Lies." he rasped.

Stiles shuddered as Derek's fingers splayed wide at the base of his spine. He curled his own fingers around the hem of Derek's t-shirt. "Off." he demanded. "Take this off."

Derek didn't miss a beat, leaning back so he could reach between them and haul his shirt over his head. Too late Stiles realized it had come out as a command. He looked down at Derek, ready to apologize, only to see Derek staring up at him expectantly, eyes glossy and pupils blown wide.

"Oh." Stiles gulped, felling a frisson of heat skip up his spine at the surge of control, the heady rush of power that flooded his veins. He only hesitated a second before saying, "Now mine."

Derek stripped Stiles' sweater and t-shirt over his head in one fluid movement, leaning in to mouth at the skin he revealed. Stiles' head fell back, a sighing breath puffing past his lips as Derek nipped and sucked his way up to Stiles' throat. Stiles rocked down against him, rolling his hips in slow waves.

Wanting to test it, to see how much control Derek allowed before he fought against it, Stiles planted his hands to Derek's chest and shoved him back against the couch. He shuffled backwards to kneel on the cushion by Derek's feet. Derek watched him attentively, waiting to see if another command would come.

"Undo your belt." Stiles dipped his chin at the metal buckle laying flat in the center of Derek's pelvis. "Slowly." he added.

Derek complied immediately, loosening the belt and letting it hang open.

Stiles swallowed hard, fingertips tingling with the authority he exerted over his Alpha. "Now your jeans." he ordered.

Again, Derek did as he was told, popping the button and sliding down the zipper of his jeans before stopping and waiting for more instructions. Stiles scooted closer so that he could hook his fingers into the waist of Derek's jeans and beneath the band of his boxer-briefs.

"Lift up." he directed, tugging both down when Derek complied.

Stiles threw Derek's pants on the floor, letting his eyes sweep over the gloriously naked vision his boyfriend presented, laid out on their living room sofa. "Christ, you're beautiful." Stiles sighed, trailing his fingertips up the inside of Derek's calves, eyes lingering on Derek's cock where it lay half-hard and heavy against his belly.

Derek shivered, goosebumps erupting under Stiles' touch. "Stiles." he sighed, tilting his head back, baring his throat in a submissive gesture that had Stiles' head swimming with power.

"Lick your palm." Stiles instructed, watching with awe as Derek did what he asked. "Good. Now, wrap it around your cock for me."

Derek moaned as he obeyed, his wide fingers curling around his shaft, sliding smoothly as he gave himself a few tugs.

Stiles' own erection was pressing uncomfortably against his zipper but he couldn't seem to care, couldn't take his eyes off of Derek. He watched, enraptured, while Derek jerked himself off.

"Slower." Stiles added when Derek's pace quickened.

Derek whimpered but slowed his strokes, a whine catching in his throat when Stiles' fingers brushed the inside of his thighs, just below where his balls hung. Derek bit off the sound, straining up into the too gentle touch.

Stiles laid flat palms to the tops of Derek's thighs and slid them up, thumbing at the hard cut of his pelvis and pressing down. Derek's hips bucked against Stiles' hands and he gasped.

"Fuck. Please, Stiles." Derek pled, his own fist never stopping its pulls.

"Not yet." Stiles denied, bending at the waist to flick the tip of his tongue at Derek's crown, the salty bite of pre-come dancing over his taste buds before he moved away.

Whining again, low and wounded, Derek reached for Stiles with one hand when he leaned over him to dig through the end table beside the couch. Stiles leaned into the hand steadying his hip for a moment before he pushed himself back and dropped the bottle of lube on Derek's stomach.

Derek raised a questioning brow, looking from the bottle to Stiles and back. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked.

"Oh, I can think of lots of things you could do with that." Stiles smirked. He lowered himself over Derek, his mouth brushing along Derek's jaw until he reached his ear and whispered lustily, "But right now, I want you to stop jerking off and fuck yourself on your fingers instead."

Derek moaned raggedly at that and sank his teeth into the meat of Stiles' shoulder. Stiles inhaled sharply, heat burning through him and magic sparking out from the bite. He hadn't been sure how Derek would respond to the half-command/half-request but he was pleased with the one he got.

Stiles stood from the couch and reached for his own belt. "On your knees." he ordered, fire flaring in his gut when he saw Derek shiver.

Up on his knees and braced on the back of the couch, Derek spread his knees wide and reached behind him with lube slicked fingers. Stiles' breath caught in his lungs as he stepped out of his jeans, almost tripping because he couldn't tear his eyes away from watching Derek work two fingers into his ass.

"If you could see what you look like right now..." Stiles groaned, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock.

Derek's head hung forward, his shoulders tight as he fingered himself. Stiles couldn't resist moving closer, kneeling behind Derek to get his hands on his ass. He palmed Derek's cheeks, spreading them so he could get a better look at where Derek's fingers disappeared into his body.

"Stiles, I need..." Derek choked out, "I can't. It's not enough."

"I know." Stiles soothed, running one hand up Derek's flank while the other joined the hand at Derek's hole.

Gently, Stiles gathered some of the lube from around Derek's rim and slipped one finger in beside Derek's own. He pressed his chest right up to Derek's back, liking the way Derek's muscles shifted while he fucked back on his hand. Derek gave a full body spasm when Stiles grazed his prostate and bit down hard at the curve of his neck.

"Shit." Derek growled, thrusting back against their hands.

"Come on, Der." Stiles coaxed, adding another finger and stroking Derek's prostate with intention. With his free hand he fisted Derek's cock, jacking him in time with his fingers. "Come for me."

Derek's body went rigid, his skin burning hot and shimmering with magic. Stiles' name passed Derek's lips on a whimpered moan as his asshole clenched around their fingers and he came over Stiles' fist.

Stiles worked him through it, letting Derek come down gently while Stiles littered his neck and shoulders with open-mouthed kisses. Derek sagged over the back of the couch, his limbs limp and pliable. Stiles stood up just long enough to let Derek slide sideways on the cushions and then straddled him once more, pining Derek to the couch between his thighs.

Derek watched Stiles jerk off above him with warm, sated eyes, his skin flushed but still shimmering and his lips parted around labored breaths.

When Stiles spilled over Derek's abs, painting them with singeing white lines, Derek arched into the feeling. Stiles' vision flared pink as his spine tightened and a loud pop sounded inside his head before he collapsed forward onto Derek's chest.

"What the fuck was that?" Stiles panted, humid breath ghosting across Derek's skin.

"Tell me to do something." Derek urged, shifting around under Stiles so that he could sit up a little.

"Go fuck yourself." Stiles laughed breathlessly, jabbing a finger into Derek's ribs.

"Already did that." Derek snorted but made no move to comply.

Stiles forced himself upright, eyes wide with surprise. "Seriously?! I broke the spell with sex? What kind of 18+ fairytale bullshit is that?"

Derek's eyebrows judged him. "At least it's broken." He shrugged, running his fingers through the mess on his stomach. "Maybe it's an essence of life thing." He suggested. "Your blood probably would have worked, too."

Wrinkling his nose in disgust at the thought of bleeding on Derek when not in the midst of a life or death battle, Stiles said, "Jizz is better."

Derek laughed and pulled Stiles into a lingering kiss, tongues tangling and breath mingling. When they parted Derek shifted onto his side, putting Stiles between his body and the back of the sofa.

"We'll go see Deaton tomorrow." he promised, peppering kisses along Stiles' jaw. "Right now we should sleep."

"We're going to wake up really uncomfortable and in need of a new couch." Stiles warned, already snuggling into Derek's warmth.

Slipping a leg between Stiles' knees, Derek only sighed. "I've been meaning to make a trip to Ikea anyway."

* * *

**Author's Note: The dub-con warning is because Derek is under a spell that makes him feel compelled to do anything Stiles tells him to do. He's not 100% capable of consent under these circumstances, though he and Stiles are a sexually active couple before this story starts. **

**The Dom/sub dynamics warning is because Derek and Stiles engage in sexual activity in which power and submission play a large role. **


End file.
